


Path of Least Resistance

by 2spooky4u, your mom (2spooky4u)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bunker Fic, Castiel in the Bunker, Child Benny, Child Emma, Human Benny, Human Emma, Kid Fic, M/M, Parenthood, Resurrection, Sam Retires, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:38:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2spooky4u/pseuds/2spooky4u, https://archiveofourown.org/users/2spooky4u/pseuds/your%20mom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wakes up with several months worth of memories lost. Oh, and two young children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Path of Least Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> WIP. I have no update schedule. Enjoy!

_In these bodies, we will live/ In these bodies, we will die/ Where you invest your love/ You invest your life_

-Mumford And Sons

'Awake My Soul'

Awake My Soul

 

* * *

 

 

“Castiel," said a voice behind him, an angel in a vessel which Cas did not recognize. He could no longer identify the graces of his brothers and sisters in his mortal form, and therefore this angel could be, like Schrodinger’s cat, anyone, friend or foe. Not that he had many of the former still alive.

“How did you get up here?” Cas asked, turning to face the angel, who was wearing a beautiful female vessel: Caucasian, brunette, petite, her pale face dressed with a smattering of tawny freckles not just across her cheeks but along her forehead, nose, chin, and neck, as well. Looking more closely, Castiel could see that they covered the skin of her body left visible by her pastel blue dress. Her straight brown hair was gathered in a neat chignon, held in place with a diamond encrusted silver ornament.

“You succeeded, my brother,” the angel said fondly and Cas realized that he was probably safe for the time being. If the angel had wanted to kill him she would have done so already. “I am very proud of you. You have shown remarkable courage, strength, and loyalty.”

Castiel didn't point out that it was him who had caused the Fall in the first place.

“State your name,” he said instead, with a laughable amount of gall, because he was simply a deceased human soul and this angel- even if she was only a cherub- could blast him into oblivion with a flick of one elegant wrist.

The angel laughed, a musical, twinkling laugh. She had chosen her vessel well.

“You need not know my name, little brother-” okay, now Cas could narrow it down to those outranking him- “but only that I love you, and I wish you only the best.”

“Is everyone back in Heaven yet?”

“No, only me. It will take most of them several weeks or even months to start trickling back. Their graces have been restored fully, but the effect, I believe, is not unlike a power surge to a weak outlet. In short, they'll have to recover from the sudden OD before they can control themselves once more.”

“How are you here?” Castiel asked, tilting his head, and she laughed.

“I have been still. The others have been struggling, infighting. I, well, I found a cabin in Canada and stayed put.”

“Oh.” Cas said, distracted. He was starting to worry now. Surely he should have his grace returned to him again now that Metatron was dead and the spell had been rendered obsolete with the counter-spell?

“I am so sorry, little brother,” the angel said, her blue eyes filled with remorse. “I have looked for a way to restore your grace to you, but it is like gathering the smoke of a fire and attempting to make the tree whole again.”

Castiel felt his heart skip a beat.

“No. No.” Cas sank to his knees, shaking, as his sister walked towards him, resting a gentle palm on his cheek. “Please, God, no.”

“I will do what I can to make your soul that of a human's,” she whispered quietly. “You will live a happy life, and retire to a heaven tailored to your own personal desires.”

“But- but I- I fixed things,” Cas stammered.

“Unfortunately, dear little bro, you also were the one to fuck them up.” The angel sighed deeply.

A familiar bluish white glow began to limn her vessel's skin, her eyes illuminating the room as she grasped his face with both freckled hands, rendering him utterly immobile as an unbearable agony began to set his body alight. His vision blurred and gave way to a steady, stinging whiteness. His blood boiled within his skin and his chest rebelled violently, heart on overdrive as he began to lose consciousness, white giving way to black and then an utter lack of color.

 

* * *

 

 

A baby was crying.

Castiel forced himself to awaken, pushing away the deep and dreamless sleep that had enveloped him minutes before. He felt enormously groggy, like the time he and Dean had hunted a particularly crafty djinn and he was taken into its clutches, woken up minutes before death and pulled back to life with a shot of a young girl's epinephrine, in a handy little thing she had called an Epi-Pen.

The infant's wails were joined with another child's wails, and Cas sat up, looking around. He seemed to be in a very nice motel room- no, this was a hotel, because the windows were on the opposing wall to the wall with the door. Plus, he seemed several stories up.

In a crib, a tiny newborn swaddled in a pink crocheted blanket cried for attention, and a young toddler, hearing the noise, began to toss around in the bed not occupied by the grown man, their cries touching something in Castiel that he didn't recognize; something that urged him to the baby's side. He scooped her up (he assumed it was a female, because humans generally assigned pink to children too young to differentiate from the opposite sex), rocking her instinctively. Her wails began to quiet to soft little cries and then stopped altogether as she looked up at him, big eyes staring up at him. Cas noticed something peculiar then. The girl had one blue eye and one green eye, something he knew to be extraordinarily rare among most creatures apart from dogs like Alaskan huskies. He cradled her to his chest, still rocking back and forth, and began to hum a lackadaisical tune. Her eyes lulled and fluttered shut, and he brushed a sliver of fine blonde hair away from her forehead.

The boy on the bed was regarding him carefully, huddled under the lush comforter. He had quieted down once he had been assured of his sister's well-being. Probably his sister.

It hit him rather suddenly that he had no idea where he was and whose children these were.

“Can you speak yet?” Cas asked the boy.

“Hungie,” said the toddler. “Beh hungie.”

“I cannot understand that tongue,” Cas said sadly. He had only retained his vessel's native American English and the remnants of high school level French.

Castiel spied a small blue duffle bag on the table near the infant's crib. Shifting the child into one arm, he fumbled with the zipper. Inside were a few items: a garment of luxurious pink felt for the baby that he believed was called a 'onesie', a blue shirt that said 'I'm sweet!' with candy on it for the boy, a stuffed pony plush toy in unrealistic shades of purple, a blue accordion folder, and a brown corduroy bear with a green cape.

Cas laid the baby gently into her crib, and went to open the accordion folder. Inside, he found some legal papers: two birth certificates from a hospital in New York City, New York, two certificates of adoption, what seemed to be two medical files, and, curiously, a yellowing black and white lithograph of a young boy.

Pulling out the birth certificates, Cas saw that the 'FATHER' line was left blank on both of the files, and the mother's name listed as 'SEALED- NY STATE GOVERNMENT'. The children- the infant was, in fact, a girl- were listed as 'EMMA MARY WINCHESTER' and the boy-

Cas blinked, confused.

The boy's name was 'BENJAMIN LAFITTE WINCHESTER'.

Were these Dean's children? Named for....someone and his mother? And Benny? And speaking of which, where was Dean? Cas tried to push down the panic that pulsated at the edge of his mind, jamming the strange files back into the accordion folder. He looked outside at the city, not remembering where he was or how he got there. Below him, across the street from the hotel, was a little shop that said 'LITTLE ROCK PET STORE'. Little Rock. That was in Arkansas. The bunker was located in Kansas. Okay, that answered the question of where he was, but he still had no idea who the children were, how they got there, how he got there, and where Dean was. Maybe he should call Sam, who had been working in a university library in Topeka for the last few months. He, at least, had a steady location and reliable phone number, and he might have a clue what was going on.

Cas had four numbers memorized: Dean's cell phone that was unknown to all save for Cas and Sam, Sam's cell phone, Charlie Bradbury's cell phone, and the phone number to the bunker's emergency line, which, if the bunker detected no life signs, would alert a hunter on Dean's 'trusted' list.

He decided to try Sam's cell phone number first. If Dean had been taken, it would be unwise to call his cell phone, for his captors, whomever they might be, could then track Cas through the call.

Sam picked up on the first ring.

“Cas?” Sam sounded shocked. “Are you- what's going on?”

“I don't know,” Cas replied carefully.

“Hold on a sec..... let me just....” In the background, he said, “I'm going to- hey, Gabby, can you cover my station for a few minutes? It's a family emergency.” A few moments later, after hearing a door open and shut, Sam cleared his throat. “So, Cas, what's the deal?”

“I'm in a hotel room, in what appears to be Little Rock, Arkansas,” Cas said.

“How are you- wait- how did everything go? Did things work? I'm assuming that you can't fly yet, because- did you get your grace back?”

“Sam, I have no idea what you are talking about.” Cas said.

“What's the last thing you remember happening?”

“Uh.....” Come to think of it, he had no idea.

“The fall of all of the angels?”

“Yes.”

“Kevin's death?”

“Yes.”

“When I moved to Topeka?”

“Yes.”

“Charlie and Dorothy getting back from Oz?”

“Yes. There was an incident with flying monkeys. We were cleaning their excrement from the hallways for weeks.”

“You remember finding the next prophet?”

“Next prophet?” Cas asked. “....I can't seem to recall that event's occurrence.”

“Man, you have a lot to catch up on.”

“I do?”

“Okay. Wait one sec. Does Dean know that you're alive yet? I'm assuming he doesn't, or you would have called him first and figured things out before contacting me. Yeah, Gabby, everything's fine, just- my brother's partner? The one who went missing? They found him. Yeah, he's alive. Yeah, it would be awesome if I could get off this afternoon and Friday, go down there? Oh my gosh, you're a lifesaver.” Cas assumed he was talking to a co-worker.

“Sam, what did you mean when you asked if Dean knew if I was alive yet?”


End file.
